


He's Her Lobster

by AshesAndDrums



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Exes, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesAndDrums/pseuds/AshesAndDrums
Summary: "What are you doing here, Bellamy," Clarke asks quietly.He glances at her, but she's stubbornly keeping her gaze on the cup of water now in her hand."I needed Octavia's opinion on something," he answers truthfully.She clears her throat. "She's not home. Meanwhile," she tosses the tablets into her mouth, chasing them with her drink, "I need to get ready for this gala showing." She goes to stand but not without grunting in pain.Bellamy frowns, "You can't be serious?" Clarke just stares blankly at him, hand pressed firmly into her side. "Whatever, I'll get out of your hair."He walks past her to grab his bag and then heads for the door."Wait," she calls and he turns around. "Do you mind... helping me get ready?"He pauses, a little in shock.It must be too long because an annoyed look crosses her face. “Look, I can do it, but it would be a lot faster if I had some help,” she says and averts her eyes again.Bellamy glances at his watch, just to check that he’s still good on time because he knows he can’t say no to her. Even now.-Or the one where Clarke is hurt and Bellamy still cares.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 201





	He's Her Lobster

**Author's Note:**

> I did a FRIENDS rewatch last year before they took it off Netflix. I know how problematic Ross and Rachel's relationship is but some of their moments are really sweet.
> 
> So here's a Bellarke spin on this one from a season 3 episode. I don't think I've written them as exes before but it's still just straight up pining so no difference. ;)

This feels like it should be a big deal. Which is probably why he is actively trying _not_ to think about it as being a big deal.

Last week, Ark University's Classics Department was asked to put together an hour to an hour and a half long discussion topic that would be filmed for a segment on the History Channel. Professor Pike was originally picked but had to drop out last minute. So, Bellamy was notified this morning that he would be the speaker and to show up on campus, dressed, later tonight. It's an incredible honor and the University may even use some of the footage for future promotional work.

So, yeah, Bellamy is definitely failing at _not_ thinking about it. 

He digs out the garment bag hanging in the back of his closet containing the only three suits he owns and goes over to Miller’s. He might as well stress and get ready. It’s multitasking.

"So, which one?" He asks, picking two of the hangers off the back of the couch and holding each outfit in front of him in turn.

Miller glances up from his phone and frowns. "The cream one makes you look like a steamboat conductor."

"I was just bringing options!” Bellamy defends. “I don’t have a very wide selection here and I thought it would help me stand out."

"If you're going for an ethnic Colonel Sanders then it's perfect."

Bellamy huffs out a breath and tosses the suit unceremoniously on top of the garment bag.

“Don’t you wear, like, sweater vests and tweed to school anyway? Just wear what you normally wear,” his friend shrugs before turning back to type something on his phone.

“But this is for _TV_! I want to look professional!”

“Hate to break it to you, but the fact that they asked you must mean that you’re already pretty professional.”

Bellamy can feel the warmth working its way up his neck and turns to start pulling the clothes off the hangers to avoid his friend seeing. “What if we mixed and matched them.”

They go back and forth a few more times, at one point he even considers scrapping everything and just going out to buy new clothes. Miller really is the worst person he could have asked for help about this.

“Why don’t you just go ask Octavia?” he asks.

Bellamy freezes as he’s putting his clothes back on the hangers and then continues to stuff them back in his bag without looking up at his friend, “You know why.”

“Dude,” he can hear the eye roll in Miller’s voice, “I’m pretty sure _she’s_ not there, she had something going on tonight too.”

He desperately wants to ask if it’s a date, but he doesn’t want to sound nosy. Which he _is_... but his friends don’t need to know that.

Instead, he clears his throat. “Good idea cause clearly you are absolutely no help.”

Miller gives him a mock salute, “What are friends for.”

Bellamy just flips him off on his way out the door.

*

He’s a little antsy as he makes his way over to his sister’s place. He hasn’t spent much time there in the last three months since… well, since the breakup. Octavia has handled being neutral territory surprisingly well between him and her roommate.

It aches a little as he pulls up to their apartment complex, but he just reminds himself that she’s not home; he can get in, see his sister, get out, and go do this TV thing. 

Bellamy uses his key to open the door, not bothering to knock, swinging it open just as tiny white pills fall to the ground and skitter all over the place. And there’s his ex, standing in the middle of it all wearing a plush bathrobe and her grumpiest, most disgruntled look on her face.

Clarke glances up at him and he sees the slight surprise in her eyes before they return to glaring, "Don't."

"I wasn't going to say anything," he says and steps inside, closing the door behind him.

"Sure you weren't," she grumbles and sets the now near empty pill bottle on the table.

Bellamy ignores the barb and walks towards the living room, careful to avoid stepping on any of the mess. "Is Octavia here?"

"No," Clarke responds but he can hear her grunting. He turns to see her struggling to bend over, hand pressed into her side.

He sighs. "Here, let me help you,” he says and puts his stuff down on the couch.

"I got it," she snaps and then promptly stumbles forward. He catches her before she can fall over completely. 

"No," he says and eases her into one of the kitchen chairs, "You don't." He shoots her a small smile before crouching down and cleaning up the spilt painkillers.

They're quiet but Bellamy can feel her burning a hole into the side of his face. He wants to ask her what happened, why she’s hurt, but he’s not sure if she’d actually tell him.

“Your sister decided she wanted to learn how to rollerblade,” Clarke says, as if reading his mind.

That gets his attention enough to look at her and he frowns, “She’s not coordinated enough for that.”

“Hence why she crashed into me and I probably have a nice bruise running up my side.”

He feels his lips twitch but turns so she can’t see as he stands to put the last of the pills in the trash. He doesn’t miss the way _her_ lips twitch when his knees crack though.

Bellamy grabs a cup and fills it up with water before setting it down in front of her. He grabs the bottle next to her elbow and carefully taps out two pills and sets them next to the glass before recapping it.

"What are you doing here, Bellamy," Clarke asks quietly.

He glances at her, but she's stubbornly keeping her gaze on the cup of water now in her hand. 

"I needed Octavia's opinion on something," he answers truthfully and he’s not sure if he imagines it but it doesn’t seem to be the answer she was hoping for.

She clears her throat. "She's not home. Meanwhile," she tosses the tablets into her mouth, chasing them with her drink, "I need to get ready for this gala showing." She goes to stand but not without grunting in pain. 

Bellamy frowns, "You can't be serious?" Clarke just stares blankly at him, hand pressed firmly into her side. "Whatever, I'll get out of your hair."

He walks past her to grab his bag and then heads for the door.

"Wait," she calls and he turns around. "Do you mind... helping me get ready?"

He pauses, a little in shock.

It must be too long because an annoyed look crosses her face. “Look, I can do it, but it would be a lot faster if I had some help,” she says and averts her eyes again.

Bellamy glances at his watch, just to check that he’s still good on time because he knows he can’t say no to her. Even now.

“Sure, princess.” The nickname slips out but neither of them comment on it as he follows her into her room.

He hasn't been in Clarke’s room since the breakup but nothing has changed. Clothes are still scattered on the floor and out of the corner of his eye he can see the photo of them on her bookshelf. Only now it’s turned around, showing the back of the frame. Bellamy wills himself not to look at it.

"The dress is hanging on the back of the door if you could grab it and put it on the bed," she nods her head towards her closet and sits down with an audible sigh of relief at her vanity mirror. 

He quickly retrieves the garment, trying not to look around, but he pauses to look at it once it’s in his hands. He recognizes the dress as one of her favorites… one of his too.

He lays it out on the bed. "Tights?" He asks.

She meets his eyes in the mirror and there's a small smile as she nods, "Yeah."

He knows exactly the ones she pairs with this dress. He bends down to grab them out of one of her dresser drawers and tosses them on the bed too. Then, without being told, he walks over to her shoe rack and grabs the blue heels she likes to wear.

“Thank you,” Clarke says after he’s set them down.

“No problem,” he says and this time he lets himself shoot her a smile. “I’ll just,” and he gestures towards the door.

“Wait!” She says and then hesitates. “Do you think… do you think you could do my hair? I didn’t really have a chance to wash it properly. One of your braided styles might look nice?”

She looks so hopeful Bellamy doesn’t want to say no. He subtly checks his watch… he still has time.

He looks back at her with another smile. “Sure.”

Bellamy brushes out her hair that’s still slightly damp and tries not to get lost in how soft it still feels. Trying not to remember all the times he used to run his fingers through it right there in the bed behind them that he can see in the reflection of the mirror.

Clarke does some light makeup as he twists her hair so half of it’s in a crown on her head. He doesn’t miss the way she flinches every time she tries to raise her left arm to a certain height before ultimately switching the little makeup brushes to the other hand. He frowns.

"Do you need help getting dressed?" He asks when he’s done with her hair.

Bellamy knows he's overstepping, knows he no longer gets to be the one to undress her. But he can tell she's struggling and can't help wanting to help her.

And Clarke must get it because she doesn't seem mad by his offer. Still, she declines his offer.

"I got it from here,” she says and slowly stands up, putting most of her weight on the vanity until she finds her balance. “Thanks, Bellamy."

He hesitates but knows from experience that there’s no pushing her. As he turns to leave her room, Clarke reaches down for the clothes on the bed and suddenly cries out in pain. Bellamy spins around to find her crouched at the foot of the bed, arm wrapped around herself while the other holds her bedspread in a death grip.

He bends down to wrap a hand around her elbow. "Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital."

Surprisingly, she doesn't fight him on it. "Yeah. Yeah, ok."

He eases her back into a seated position on the bed before grabbing a pair of leggings and a random t-shirt from her dresser. He sets them down next to her before leaving her room so she can get changed.

It's after he's shut the door that Bellamy realizes the t-shirt was one of his that he thought he'd lost months ago.

He checks his watch and he’s still got a little time. He can drop Clarke off in the ER and head straight to the school and just suck it up with one of the outfits he has on him.

“Everything ok?”

Bellamy looks up and Clarke is shuffling over to him with her hand pressed to her side.

He swallows and offers a smile. “Yep,” he says and walks over to adjust his shirt so it’s sitting properly on her small frame. “Let’s go.”

*

The drive to the hospital is quiet and not like the comfortable silences they used to share. Bellamy parks as close to the doors as he can and has every intention of leaving Clarke in the waiting room… But her grip on his hand tightens as she eases into one of the chairs and doesn’t seem to have any intention of letting go. So he just sits next to her and begins filling out the paperwork that the girl at the registration desk handed him.

It’s when they’re wheeling Clarke back for an x-ray that he realizes he isn’t leaving. He can’t.

So he calls the head of his department, explains that his girlfriend had an accident and is in the hospital, leaving out that she’s his ex-girlfriend, and that he won’t be able to make it to the shoot.

After they’ve brought her back out and the doctor explains that it’s just some bruised ribs, he sends them on their way with an order for bedrest and a prescription for higher dose medication.

“And I’m obligated to inform you that when we say ‘bedrest’ we really do mean _rest_. Sexual intercourse is strongly not recommended for at least two to three weeks.”

Bellamy turns beet red and out of the corner of his eyes he can see Clarke’s face doing the same. They thank the doctor before heading to the after-hours pharmacy downstairs to get her prescription.

The drive home feels even more uncomfortable than the drive to the hospital.

"Ok,” Bellamy says, finally breaking their silence as he opens her apartment door. “Let's get you to bed. Doctor's orders." He puts his arm around her again to help her shuffle inside.

Clarke tilts her head to look up at him and his eyes meet her blue ones instantly. “Than-“

“Clarke!”

They’re startled apart but Bellamy still keeps a firm hand on her waist to prevent her from falling over.

Octavia jumps up from the couch and rushes over to them.

“What the hell happened?” she demands, looking from her roommate to her brother and back.

“Let’s just say I’m not doing any more outdoor activities with you,” Clarke says and stifles a yawn.

“Wha- Me?” Realization and guilt crosses her face before she asks, “Are you ok.”

“Just some bruised ribs,” Clarke reassures her. “Nothing to worry about. Your brother took me in to get it looked at.” She turns to look at him again with a grateful smile and it’s then that he realizes he’s still holding onto her. Still standing too close to her

He clears his throat and starts to pass her over to his sister. “Can you get her to bed, O?”

“Yeah, sure,” Octavia says and immediately takes most of Clarke’s weight. She starts to head towards the bedroom when she turns. “Oh! Miller texted that you were looking for me. How did that thing go tonight?”

Clarke pauses. “What thing?” she asks him.

“It’s nothing-“

“Bellamy’s going to be on the History Channel!” Octavia exclaims.

Shock crosses Clarke’s face. She looks back at him, frantic, “But he’s been with me all night. You didn’t tell me you had plans! Bell, I’m so so-“

He waves a hand to cut her off. “Don’t worry about it, princess. They rescheduled the whole thing so Pike and I can film a longer segment together at a later time.” He shoots her a smile, “So, really, you helped me out.”

“Yeah… yeah, ok,” she says but doesn’t look entirely like she forgives herself. She starts to move away from Octavia and make her way towards her bedroom by herself... And he can’t leave her like this.

“Clarke,” he calls to get her attention again. “I was right where I wanted to be tonight,” he says with a small, reassuring smile.

A blush is making its way onto her cheeks but she’s smiling back at him.

“Alright,” Octavia says quietly as she reaches out to grab Clarke’s elbow again. “Let’s get you to bed.”

She nods at her roommate and whispers a quick, “Thanks, Bell,” before the two girls are behind the shut door of Clarke’s bedroom.

“Anytime, princess,” he says to the empty living room before turning towards the front door.

Bellamy wasn’t lying when he said he was right where he wanted to be tonight. He always wants to be by her side, in whatever relationship she wants from him. And as he gets in his car he tells himself that he’s going to stop by tomorrow to check up on her. And the next day after that, if she’ll have him.

He’s hoping she will.

**Author's Note:**

> I am having major major writing motivation issues right now. I'm honestly surprised I finished this.


End file.
